Outsider
by St. Patrick 33
Summary: . I am the answer to the question on everyone of the scientist’s minds; can a child conscripted into military become a normal adult and mature into a valuable member of society? In other words, can a Spartan be normal?
1. Intro

Intro /Cover Letter______________________________________________

(UNSC Datapad 3102192109744 Entry 390 April 19, 2525 Encryption BLACK)

Classification:

This document is Property of the United Naval Space Corps and has been labeled as Top Secret and Classified. Any unauthorized viewing of this document is a Treasonous Felony and is Punishable by Memory Modification or Life Imprisonment.

My name is Christopher Randall 064 or code name C.R. This is my report of survival in the real world as a modified human or Spartan. I am the answer to the question on everyone of the scientist's minds; can a child conscripted into military become a normal adult and mature into a valuable member of society? In other words, can a Spartan be normal?

Before I get ahead of my self let me explain the logic of this question. We have been taught to fight, to kill, and to be the best soldiers in the universe since age 6. But when our military service is over, what the hell will happen to us when we try to assimilate with the general civilian population. Will we go quietly into life among the other Joe Six-Packs of the universe, or will our instincts, training, and war experiences cause us to become mass-murderers, drunks or any number of possible flawed personalities that will stain the reputation of the UNSC. This report should answer these questions to a degree. And as a full civilian I can now finally tell you to go to fucking hell for separating me from my family.

C.R.


	2. The Reluctant Spartan

Chap. 1 The Reluctant Spartan_____________________________________

Chris-064 stepped out of his bunk at 03:45, well before he needed to be up. His whole body still ached from the augmentations and the standard issue military bed was not helping. As he slipped on the standard issue military pants the legs ripped in two "I just got those last week," he thought to himself as he threw the now rags in the trash bin next to his bed. His body had grown an incredible amount with all the weights he had pushed and training he had been through. All the uniforms and fatigues that had been given to him had been destroyed in the process. Chris once had the amusing thought he was like The Incredible Hulk comic from the 20th century he had once saw when he hacked into the Earth Historical Society looking for the most random thing he could find. As he threw on the biggest pair of shorts he could find he thought about how much he had changed in the last six months. He had grown almost two feet to a resounding six foot five of pure muscle, and actually out lifted John last week. His fellow Spartans had complimented him on his feat, but the best part of the whole experience was actually beating the golden child at his own game.

Chris quickly put that thought out of his mind as he strapped on his boots, walked out the door, and down the hall, only to run into a pack of ODST obviously drunk and still pissed about the fact they have to share a base with the "freak kids." Chris's enhanced smell receptors picked up the pungent smell of whisky immediately before he noticed the wobble in the normally board straight ODST walk. "Hey freak show what the fuck are you doing in our part of the base?" a Sergeant asked slurring his words so bad that he doused Chris with spit. "I'm going for a run sir," Chris answered respectfully but alertly as if a pack of wolves were behind him. The Sergeant let out a sputtering belch and slurred out, "Yeah, I'm sure you are dipshit, whatcha gonna run home to mommy, oh wait I forgot you don't have a mommy, you have nobody but your other freak show friends." "That's my family sir and that is all I will ever need," Chris said coolly, his temper was starting to rise but he would never show it in front of a ranking officer. "You know what I think," the drunken ODST continued almost falling three times and relying on his buddy for support, "Beneath all your size, and your fake muscles and your fucked up brain I know what you are." "What is that sir?" Chris asked his nostrils flaring ever so slightly with rage. "You're just a scared little bitch."

As the pack of ODST stumbled away from him laughing, Chris looked back and sighed through his teeth as he walked toward the black night of Reach. He knew it was going to be all over the base that they had been able to verbally assault him and he didn't throw them through a wall or snap their necks like twigs. He was always called the reluctant Spartan because John had so successfully beaten the shit out of their ODST counterparts on the Atlas, that everyone had thought all Spartans were steroid abusing unstable freaks that will murder you as fast as look at you. It didn't matter how many times you saved their ass, how many times you went on missions that they were too scared to go on, the hatred existed. Had they all taken some abuse, yes but Chris knew it came with the territory. He couldn't count how many time his fellow soldiers had try to prove there mettle by trying to take him out. But Chris had never thrown a punch, it didn't matter how many blows he dodged, how much verbal abuse he took, he never reacted. Because of that everyone but the top brass and his fellow Spartans thought the augmentations had turned him soft. Only his family knew that Chris had a strict moral code on this particular subject. He would never hit a comrade unless his life was in serious danger. "It's better to let them bitch you and try to shake you than to act on your aggression and show them that there hatred is tangible," he had said to Linda once after a particularly messy incident involving five ODST and a fire hose. As he walked out of the barracks he took a look up at the sky and thought to him self, "I'm 14 and have 12 confirmed kills, and I'm the soft one?" He subtly shrugged to him self as he took off into the night.

Right on schedule, two hours later, Chris jogged up to the meeting hall where all of the Spartans had mustered for their daily briefing. As he fell into the mass of mutants he felt a tap on his shoulder and looked backwards to see something flying toward his head. Chris snagged it out of the air and realized it was a breakfast bar from the mess hall, he also saw Linda walking right behind him. "Don't you ever sleep," she asked him looking as concerned as a lone wolf sniper can look. "What did Mendez used to say in boot, sleep when you're dead?" Chris quipped back and chuckled which forced the slightest smile on Linda's face. After the augmentations she had become quieter and more withdrawn and Chris had made it his job to make her smile at least once a day.

As they all took their seats Chris noticed on stage the swooping lab coat of the good Dr. Halsey. Her face looked paler and more drawn in than the last time Chris had saw her which meant one thing, bad news. As she started her lecture on how proud she was of all of them Chris looked around at all the Spartan teams sitting together. Blue, Green, and Red teams were all sitting around one another paying attention raptly, while Chris and the other loners sat above them. It wasn't that Chris and his fellow loners were the black sheep of the Spartan family, far from it, they just had certain assets in combat that all of the combat teams could use. "But now I come to the reason I am here," Dr. Halsey said with concern in her voice. "Some of you are being shipped out within the week, on a mission that if successful will break the backs of the insurgents on Volta 5." As she explained the topographical data on Volta 5, Chris began to wonder if he would be one of the lucky to break the tedium of Reach and actually go do something to help the cause. An hour later Dr. Halsey had gotten to the part that everyone had been waiting for. "The few of you that the top brass are requesting are as follows: John, Kelly, Linda, Fred and Chris. The five I called please follow me to headquarters to be briefed further, the rest are needed in the gymnasium for Close Quarter Combat training. Dismissed." As the Spartans fell out to their assigned training, the five followed Dr. Halsey to a waiting Warthog and trucked to H.Q. On the ride there Chris thought, "It's time to go to work."

* * *

A.N 1245 words. Not bad for the first chap. of my first fan fic. I know the intro and this don't mesh but they will come together a little better in the next few chapters. More action next chapter Review if you feel so inclined and btw egg nog + So. Co. = a damn good x-mas peace RJB


	3. The Mission

Chap 2. The Mission_____________________________________________

Chris and the rest of his team sat in the cargo bay of the war ship Robert Kennedy tensely preparing for the quickly approaching mission. Chris sat in his corner cleaning his rifle, thoughts running through his head like a pinball machine gone mad. He had foregone cryo sleep so that he could keep in top physical shape. Besides, he hated going into the tubes, something about freezing his body for long periods of time made him feel helpless. The only problem was the fact that his insomnia had kicked in again so he spent most of his time pacing the decks and lifting. Not a fun way to spend a month but it needed to be done and there was no better time to do it.

As he looked over his team his thoughts focused in on his team, there was the golden child John, his shadows Kelly and Fred and Linda a lone wolf like himself. "God I wish I could go on this damned mission myself," he thought as he slammed the clip into his assault rifle. I might as well go other there and make nice with our fearless leader." As Chris walked over toward the group, he could hear John go over the assignments for the mission.

"This is going to be an assault, snatch and grab mission. We need to be extra sharp while we're in the complex there's going to be a ton of mines, and troops firing from all directions. So mind your lines of fire, and we can all go home in one piece.''

Chris rolled his eyes at this cliché and laughed that they had picked this man as their leader. He had done just as much as him but John had the one little incident on the Atlas to further his reputation. "John, I understand the point of you, Sam, Kelly, and Linda but why am I here?" Chris asked a slight note of sarcasm in his voice. "Well you're here for your strength," John responded coldly, "This General is a big guy and we need a strong back to heft him up." "So I'm just a meathead to you?" Chris asked the anger in the pit of his gut rising. "Yeah basically," John responded and stood up to meet Chris eye to eye. "What Johnny, you still pissed that I out lifted you last month," Chris roared back meeting John nose to nose. "Alright you two put your cocks back in your pants, you're teammates and family." Kelly said as she inched the two battling Spartans apart. "Ok Kelly, I guess your right." Chris conceded as he glared at John one more time and walked back to his corner.

Chris was still in an internal rage when Linda crept over by him and sat down. "What the hell was that about?" she asked calmly. "Nothing," Chris lied "Don't lie to me Chris, you and John have been at each others throats since boot, I think you're just two alpha males that feel you have to compete for control of the team." Linda stated with a minor smirk "You know I can do with out you always trying to psychoanalyze me Ms. Lone wolf." Chris shot back with a chuckle. Linda said nothing to this just a quick sniff and continued "What is your problem with John then?" she asked. "I don't like the way he thinks that everybody should listen to him because he was up Chief Mendez's ass all of the time." Chris replied with a tone of insolence in his voice. "John is trying his hardest to lead us to victory," Linda said, "I really think you should give him a chance. You might actually like him." "Yeah like I'm ever going to like Superman over there," Chris snorted "I'm going to change into my black suit I'll see you in a bit kid." All Linda was left to do was to sigh and walk back to her beloved rifle.

As Chris walked away he had become increasingly angry. "How dare she take his side," he thought, "I mean all he ever does is act like we are not a team. He thinks he's fucking immortal." He went into the back of the bay and checked his suit, there were no holes but a lot of blood stains on it. As he slipped it over shoulders he put his brain into work mode. There was no more rivalry with John, no more trying to make Linda laugh, just calm readiness and an urge to get this mission over with.

As they sat in the Pelican Chris noticed that the tension was thicker than he ever had ever felt it. "Guys, no worries, lets just get this done," he said looking at all of them. They all nodded and started their final weapons check at the pilot clicked on the intercom. "Two minuets," he said and banked the pelican into a hard turn to drop them on the moon of Volta. Chris locked down his final checklist and exited the pelican and took point on the roof of the building. Fred cut a hole into the roof and blue team roped down into the complex. As the last Spartan rappelled down to the floor John gave the hand signal for delta formation.

As the team filed into position, Chris saw the flash of leather boots to his right. Just as he signaled that there were contacts to the right the report of machine gun fired dropped all of them to the ground. Chris pulled the trigger in unison with the rest of his unit and quickly the noise died down. "I thought you said it was all clear 64," John whispered. "It was clear 117," Chris replied than pointed to a door to the right which on the map said led to the main room of the complex. John also pointed that way and the whole team moved through that door and into the heart of enemy territory.

As they entered the great room of the complex John pointed to Chris and Fred to spread out and for Linda to find a good spot for her to shoot from. As they moved John sided up with Kelly and told her she was the rabbit and to draw the guards out. Kelly nodded and sprinted with her cheetah like speed into the next room. Chris crouched behind a desk and readied a fragmentation grenade, a nice little surprise for the bastards following her.

Within 2 minuets Kelly reappeared with 15 guards behind her trying to catch her but failing miserably. It was almost too easy when Chris lofted the grenade over the desk into the mass of insurgents. As the main group of survivors displaced, Chris switched to his assault rifle and calmly mowed down three guards until he felt a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders. Chris dropped to the ground rolled to his right and pulled a combat knife out from his belt. The guard threw a punch at him which Chris easily deflected. With the guard overextended from the punch Chris easily thrust the knife between the mans ribs and shimmied back as he fell to the ground. As Chris surveyed the situation, he heard the squish of bullet meeting flesh and the report of a long rife. He looked behind him to see a guard felled by Linda's dead eye accuracy.

John gave the signal to move forward, and the team double timed it out of the foyer and into the door that Kelly and the guards came from. Chris switched to his pistol as the hallway led to one door. John kicked down the door that led to a richly decorated office. As the team swept the room, Chris noticed the desk shake ever so slightly. Chris raised his hand to grab the teams attention, and threw it on its side to find a portly man in a gray uniform. He quickly jumped on the man, as Fred handed him the syringe of sedative to subdue the hysterical general. As Chris pushed the chemical in to the General's bloodstream, he pushed a panic button located underneath the desk before falling limp at Chris's feet.

Klaxons blared as the intruder alarm went off throughout the entire complex. "We've got to go" John said and popped a new clip into his assault rifle. The team followed suit as Chris picked up the passed out officer and carried him out of the office. As they came out of the door they were met by a guard patrol which the team dispatched with ease. They all quickened their pace through the great hall with more guards right behind them. When an RPG round flew over their heads, John ordered them each to take cover behind the large pillars of the room. Chris, having the large body of the general on his shoulders, ducked behind the first pillar and dropped the dead-weight on his shoulders behind him.

As Chris pulled out the assault rife from his pack he heard the familiar whine of a RPG whiz past his head and hit the top of the pillar next to him. He decided to end this once and for all. He sighted a tall blonde private with the RPG, and squeezed the trigger like was trained. A three shot burst rang out and the man dropped like a sack of potatoes. Chris sighted the other RPG wielding man and repeated the process, but just as he got the shots off he saw the launcher light up and send another explosive projectile toward him. Chris dived out of the way before the rocket made contact right were he was standing just seconds before. The report from the rocket sent him flying back and he felt the heat of the explosion on his face. As he pulled him self up he heard John scream, "double time fall out pelicans outside at the loading bay."

Chris never ran faster in his life, even with the 300 pound general on his back, when he heard John say those words. The team was still in formation, just sprinting out of a bad situation. As the team neared the large blast doors that were the entrance to the loading bay John slammed the doors shut and blue team, with Chris following closely, boarded the pelican.

As Chris ran into the belly of the pelican he noticed a light clinking sound on the metal floor. When he looked down he saw his worst fear, a primed grenade thrown on the ship by the only person overlooked in the loading bay, a young child. Chris dropped the general and kicked the grenade, then saw a bright flash and darkness.

AN: Nice, first cliffhanger, kinda you know the drill review if ya want. Later ya'll RJB


End file.
